


Becoming One

by Karla1209



Category: Winnetou - Karl May
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Developing Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Tender Sex, dirty talk -sort of, virgin Old Shatterhand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 19:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18267599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karla1209/pseuds/Karla1209
Summary: After a bear attack Winnetou and Old Shatterhand confess their love to each other. They use the following weeks to discover the other one's body until a lazy afternoon at the riverside leads them to the last step.





	Becoming One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sharlih-rhymes-with-Darling (LadyLustful)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLustful/gifts), [Cirilla9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/gifts).



> Thank you, esteven, for translating and thank you, Dana, for beta reading! I love our little group of Karl May nerds!

I woke up because something had disturbed me. Half asleep still, I opened my eyes and looked around. The shallow clearing on the riverbank was as peaceful in the afternoon sun as it had been when I fell asleep. So what could have disturbed my slumber?

I raised myself slowly and, equally slowly, perceived a few details around me. I generally needed time, especially when I fell asleep during daytime. I had long since given up on working on this. No matter how long I lived with the Apache, I would never master their ability to be wide awake the moment I opened my eyes. Civilization probably still had me in its claws.

“My brother may rest again. The calls of two otters playing woke him. They have already disappeared into the river again.” I smiled involuntarily when I heard Winnetou’s words. Obviously he had not only noticed that I had surfaced from sleep, but had also perceived what had woken me while I still searched for the source.

Instantly I turned towards him and realized why his voice had sounded so strangely muffled. He still lay exactly like he had been before our afternoon nap: prone, his face hidden in his arms and under his long hair. I was almost embarrassed that Winnetou had not even felt it necessary to look up in order to discern what happened around us while I was still occupied with waking up and convincing my sleep-drugged mind to start working.

But seeing the Apache, I quickly forgot my previous musings, because he occupied my mind and my feelings so completely that nothing else stayed of any importance when I let my gaze wander over his flawless body while sun and shadows painted dancing patterns on his bronze skin.

It was hot, and we had both yearned for taking a bath in the water of the Pecos River. Naturally, we did not want to do that amongst children frolicking around or in the midst of women doing their laundry or those young maidens always surrounding my blood brother. We took our stallions a considerable distance along the river bank to this grassy spot. It sloped towards the river that had washed a wide bend into the soft ground. In this small cove, the waters flowed deep and even, which was just perfect for bathing and swimming.

For a while we romped through the water like two schoolboys, than we lay down in the soft grass to let the sun dry us while we drowsed. The warm rays had long since fulfilled their task, only Winnetou’s wonderful hair glinted where it was still moist, where it covered his back and partly hid his beautiful face.

My gaze floated dreamily across my brother’s body; from his feet, up his legs to his strong thighs and this wonderfully perfect curve of his buttocks, over his muscular back to his shoulders and back down again.

I had seen my friend naked many times because ever since we became friends we went swimming together or got wet involuntarily, so that we had to shed our clothes by a fire.

A few weeks ago things had changed between us. We had been on a bear hunt and while we lay in wait for a young bear we wanted to hunt down, an old grizzly had decided to make us his prey. Out of nowhere it had attacked us in wide leaps from the underbrush, so that we were hard-put to keep pace with this new foe. When I tried to turn and point my bear killer rifle I unfortunately got caught in several vines and would have plunged into the animals outstretched paws had it not been for Winnetou coming to my rescue showing a complete disregard for his own safety when he threw himself between me and this enormous Master Bruin.

Winnetou had sunk his knife straight into the bear’s heart on the first stab, but in the fall to the ground, the animal had knocked him over and buried him underneath its body. I had freed my foot from the vines in frenzy and leaped across to wrench the heavy cadaver from my Winnetou. This was much more easily said than done, and quite some time passed before I had rescued the chieftain. During my efforts I had called him again and again, but to no avail. He had not replied.

When I had finally managed to haul the animal off him, Winnetou lay lifeless in my arms. His breath had been so very shallow I had hardly been able to feel it. With trembling hands I had searched for his heartbeat, but in my fear for him, I had been unable to find it. My fear of losing him had made me act in a way that changed everything. Essentially, I had only wanted to lay my cheek against his nose so as to feel his breath. Instead, however my love for him forged ahead since my panicky mind had no longer been able to keep it in its place. I had kissed him.

My blood brother had opened his eyelids just then, and before I was able to let go and stammer out an apology, he had leaned into the kiss – careful, searching, but full of love, dedication, trust. His dark eyes shone with the light of infinite gratitude, infinite devotion and in the face of death which we had barely escaped, we confessed our love to each other.

Five weeks had passed since then. Five weeks in which we cautiously approached each other physically, so that seeing the man I loved turned my silent admiration into a yearning to touch him. In no time at all, my longing overwhelmed me and I had to get up and lay down again at his side.

Naturally, my approach had not gone unnoticed, so without even giving it a conscious thought, I knew that Winnetou smiled, when I sat next to him. I loved his smile, and I had to see it for myself. Carefully, almost shyly I brushed his hair out of his face, only to be instantly spellbound by his midnight dark eyes, shining with love.

“My Sharlih has rested enough? It is still early in the afternoon. He might wish to close his eyes for a little longer.”

“How can I close my eyes when you are near me?” I answered his question with a question. “But Winnetou must not let himself be disturbed by me and sleep some more.”

“How can the chieftain of the Apache sleep when he feels your hands on his body?” Winnetou mimicked my words.

“I will keep them to myself, if my brother wishes it.” I offered. Obviously, this was not what he wanted to hear because he raised himself up half-way and retorted. “Please do not stop. I want to feel you.”

I needed no more encouragement and immediately I let my fingers wander across his back, pushing his hair aside, caressing the soft skin, that covered his firm muscles.

Purring softly, a sound that reminded me of an overgrown cat, Winnetou let his head sink onto his crossed arms, closed his eyes and gave himself completely into my soft touches.

A wave of deep affection and most intimate love flooded me when I realized our situation. The strong, invincible and ever so unapproachable chieftain of the Apache let himself sink into my touches, reveling in my closeness, my devotion and my caresses. My heart was overflowing with gratitude that this was his way of showing that for me only he would –to a degree- become vulnerable and defenseless, revealing his heart, his wishes, his longings to me in a way that I had never expected, not even in my boldest dreams.

My hands slowly stroked over each and every inch of his skin that I was able to reach. They travelled along the lines of his shoulder blades. My index and second finger walked along his spine to the small of his back. I knew this to be one of the few spots on the Apache’s body that made it hard for him to stay motionless when it was touched. It was no different today, but when he tried to squirm away, I abandoned this sensitive place and continued my journey across his buttocks to his thighs.

My fingers slid to the back of his knees towards his calves and further down to his feet from where I started the way back. Only this time, it was no longer only my hands travelling along, but instead of them I used my lips and my tongue to play with his gorgeous body. Again and again I kissed the soft skin, let the tip of my tongue dance across it to leave small moist trails that immediately dried in the sun.

Time and space no longer mattered. There was only him, the man I loved beyond any measure and who lay there, obviously savoring each and every of my caresses. At some point, I did not know how much time had passed, Winnetou raised his head, turned on his side and asked me, “Sharlih, come closer.”

Immediately I did what he asked of me, laid down in the grass, facing him. But he motioned for me to turn around, so that our bodies could cling to each other along their entire length, my back to his chest. Firmly but still tenderly Winnetou took me into his strong arms, drew me closer, so I could feel his growing arousal on my buttocks. All the while his left hand was caressing my skin. At the same time his lips feathered a thousand touches along my neck as far as he could reach. They seemed to me like shadows of kisses and soon they made my body yearning for more.

Nevertheless, Winnetou took his time. He mirrored my touches when I had let my hands travel over his body. He stroked my chest, my stomach, my left arm. His hand wandered down my side, teasing my groin so that I could not resist a giggle, then brushed my buttocks and down my thighs, as far as it was possible for Winnetou to reach.

He had long since ignited my passion which in turn had filled my shaft, but my lover’s caresses completely neglected my centre, making my longing grow immeasurably with each of his touches.

Without really being aware of it, my hips started moving, rubbing my buttocks against his lap. This in turn caused his member to grow to full size.

Lust began to cloud my mind and from somewhere far away I perceived low moans. Only after a while I realized that it was me making those sounds. Carefully I wanted to turn in Winnetou’s embrace, so as to be able to see him, to kiss him, to touch him in turn, but he did not let it happen.

Instead he raised his head to whisper into my ear. “What does my Sharlih long for? He may speak of his wishes because Winnetou will fulfill them.”

I felt blush rising in my cheeks. It had taken several sleepless nights to admit to myself that I enjoyed making love with another man, but in the end my heart had conquered my mind. To discover Winnetou’s body passionately and silently was one thing, but it was something completely different to put my longings into words. For some reason, however, it excited my otherwise taciturn lover infinitely, when he or I commented on what we did during our love-making, or when I voiced my wishes. And so this time again, I overcame my embarrassment. Nevertheless, I was glad that he was unable to look into my face the way we lay.

“Please, kiss my neck.” This request was relatively easy for me and my lover obeyed at once. For some time I cherished the touch of his lips, but soon this was no longer enough for me.

“Allow me to turn onto my back. I wish to see you.” Again, Winnetou followed my plea, loosened his embrace and leaned on his right arm to look into my face. Even now I felt the unnatural warmth in my cheeks, but my embarrassment was unimportant as long as I knew my blood brother would be happy.

And so I brought myself to utter my next request. “Kiss me, as I wish to taste you.” Winnetou’s dark eyes flared up full of promise. Slowly he leaned down until our mouths touched, opened, until our tongues admitted entrance for the other. Our passion mounted with each kiss, each lick, each bite. We sucked on each other’s lips, our tongues dueled with each other until we were out of breath. Only then did we broke away from each other, and I mumbled my next wish. Its inherent intimacy made me blush again. “Touch my nipples with your hands and your tongue. Play with them.”

With a lust-filled groan Winnetou bent to this task and I felt myself dissolve in ever rising lust as his kissable lips drew my nipples between them. He licked my nubs, leaving a moist trail, only to blow across them. He took them between his fingers, twisted and pulled them, stimulated them in every possible way until they were red, hard and sensitive.

Only then did he let go, and looked into my face questioningly. I knew with certainty he would be willing to abandon our love play, should I find the right words. So I made a final request and put into a few words what I wanted and longed for. “Let me be yours.” 

I had hoped that now my lover would take care of my shaft twitching with lust, but before he did, he put his mouth close to my ear only to whisper, “Thank you.” Then he slithered down my body, leaving a moist trail with his tongue from my earlobes down my neck and chest to my centre. But instead of finally, finally stimulating my manhood with firm strokes or even with his glorious mouth, his hands floated from my loins to my testicles. While he covered them with one hand, he used the index finger of his other to stroke across the tip of my glans with such a delicate touch that I thought I was going insane.

By now impatient and desperate I arched up my centre, but Winnetou refused to give in to my body’s wordless request. Instead he licked the pleasure drop he gathered on his finger from my already dripping shaft.

Then he leaned down again. “Sharlih had wished for a kiss to better taste Winnetou. Now Winnetou will show his brother what the Apache will soon taste.” With this promising announcement he kissed me again, fired with passion while his hand returned to caress my balls tenderly.

The feeling of his tongue, of his fingers playing with me and the way his hard cock was rubbing against my thigh slowly seeped into my conscience. These sensations made me groan several times until I stammered out one more wish. “Take me…”

Winnetou was just about to touch my centre with his sensual lips when my request made him hesitate. After our first kiss, our first hesitant touches on bare skin we had come together in many different ways during those past five weeks together, finding new ways to give each other the highest pleasure.

But so far we had refrained from a complete physical union such as I had seen as a boy with glowing cheeks in illustrated books about the Ancient Greeks and Romans. Had it been fear, lack of knowledge or shame? Maybe a bit of either. Today though, none of this seemed to matter anymore. My longing to be completely united with the man I loved above all had shrouded my concerns in the dense haze of my lust, had left any of my misgivings in a dense fog of pleasure, letting every fear fade. I only wished to be completely his, to give myself to him, to belong to him.

Winnetou, however, seemed to be confused by my wish because as soon as I had uttered those words he stopped all of his wonderful ministrations, sat back and regarded me with an unreadable expression in his face. I already feared to have been too forward, to have frightened him, but then his hands framed my face infinitely gently. He put his forehead against mine and asked me with love and concern apparent in his voice, “Is my Sharlih really certain? Winnetou would never pressure you into taking this step. I never want to hurt you. All that my brother already gives me is more, so much more than I ever hoped for. He need not give me more of himself.”

“Winnetou, my Winnetou.” I whispered, hardly able to put my thoughts into coherent words. “Shhh, I know what I wish for. And I know it will be wonderful.”

His eyes shone with a soft glow that went straight to my heart. His beautiful face was so near to mine that I could not help kissing him again, deeply and ardently. I pulled his body closer so that our aroused shafts touched, sending delicious shivers of passion through my veins. 

Winnetou seemed to share my feelings because the same instant he rubbed himself against me, he let his hands wander down my sides and finally ended our kiss, returning his lips to the spot where my request had stopped them.

Achingly slow his well-shaped body slid down mine; then he knelt by my side only to kiss his way from my neck, down my chest and stomach to my centre. This time I did not have to wait in vain for a real touch.

When his lips reached the hair that surrounded the base of my arousal his right hand reached for my shaft to set it upright and took it into his mouth without further preliminaries.

The moist heat enveloping me, the pressure of his fingers, the play of his tongue, triggered such a wave of pleasure in me that I feared to spill within a few moments. I groaned helplessly, wanting to make Winnetou understand that he had to stop his ministrations if he did not want my impatience take control of me, let me come too early, but that was unnecessary. My lover knew exactly what he was doing. I felt the release starting to claim me, was nearing the height of pleasure only my blood brother was able to give me when he let my twitching cock slip out of his mouth. At the same time he pressed his hand around its base and pulled me back from the abyss to which his touches had so quickly pushed me. 

Panting, I looked up at him and noticed an almost mischievous smile crossing his fine features while he explained “Not yet. First Winnetou wishes to take the gift you offered him.”  
His hard grip disappeared, and he used his knee to push my thighs apart. Then he crouched between them. Slowly and carefully his hands caressed the inside of my legs, exerted a bit more pressure to make me open them wider to give him the access I had just granted him to that most intimate spot.

Suddenly hesitant I followed his wordless instructions. I had become uncertain whether I really wanted what we intended to do. But before my senses returned to me I felt the tip of Winnetou’s moist finger gently stroke my entrance. That soft touch made me instantly forget everything I had just thought about and turned me into a violent stream of burning lust which prompted me to set my feet down to the left and right of my lover to give him more room.

Winnetou caressed my entrance infinitely slowly, carefully and tenderly, licking his slender fingers again and again before they continued to circle the spot where I would soon feel him, or so I hoped. He had not yet entered me in any way and still contented himself with stimulating and caressing me externally, only now and then exerting a bit of pressure on those muscles that were trying to block his access.

All the while I thought I was going to die from his ministrations, the excitement of knowing my beloved touched me at that hidden spot where no other person had touched me or would ever do so was almost unbearable. His, I wanted to be only his, forever.

Finally I could not stand it anymore and pleaded while blushing again furiously. “I beg you…Winnetou. I need to feel you inside me.” And as if my blood brother had only been waiting to hear these words, he intensified the pressure of his finger, this time until my entrance gave way, until he could penetrate me and thus unite us in a way that made me moan uncontrollably.

Immediately, Winnetou paused, obviously uncertain whether I had cried out from lust or from pain. But although it felt peculiar to be this stretched, and I could not deny a slightly uncomfortable sensation inside, I endlessly yearned to feel more of him. “Please.” I stammered again. “Go on, more, deeper.”

Winnetou understood. Infinitely cautiously he pushed further into me, pulled back a bit only to push forward again to stimulate me in a slow but steady movements that elicited countless drops from my almost painfully hard shaft. Finally Winnetou showed mercy on my twitching hardness because without withdrawing his finger from me, he again took me in his mouth, licking and sucking on my tip while he continued to stroke my insides.

Soon I could no longer restrain myself because of this double stimulation. I uttered a string of groans, my hips jerked up to the rhythm my blood brother had instigated. It was as if they had a will of their own, needing to drive my shaft deeper into his mouth only to sink back in order not to lose contact with his hand.

I lost myself in these all-encompassing feelings, finding myself nearer to my friend then I had ever been before and already knew that this was only the beginning of what Winnetou intended to give me.

When I was nearing release again, Winnetou stopped once more, even pulling his finger out. I wanted to protest but then his mouth touched my entrance and before I could form the question of what my lover had planned, I felt the hot tip of his tongue take the place that had formerly been occupied by his finger.

As enthusiastically as he had sucked my cock, had licked and stimulated it, he now took care of my entrance. He turned me into a gasping, senseless being only governed by the name of my beloved and the wish to belong to him completely – heart and soul. While my senses drowned in this mist of wonderful emotions that Winnetou wrapped me in, I felt myself relax bit by bit.

My blood brother seemed to have noticed this because while his tongue pushed into me again and again, his hand also returned, dancing around the slowly relaxing ring of muscles until Winnetou demanded entry with two fingers, something I gladly gave to him.

Again Winnetou moved with infinite care, again I noticed that slightly uncomfortable stretching, a mild burning, a mix of too much and not enough that nearly took me to the climax again.

This time I, myself clasped the root of my erection firmly and noticed with satisfaction the smile that illuminated Winnetou’s still moist lips before he hid his face again between my thighs. Again, he used his tongue on me, making sure there was no unpleasant friction while he seemed to spend a sheer eternity moving his fingers in me, gradually stretching me, preparing me for what I could hardly wait for.

I did not know how much time had passed, but I definitely longed –as much as I reveled in the preparations – for their end, to finally and completely give myself to him. “Winnetou, please…” I gasped again. “More…you…completely…” By this time I was unable to form complete sentences.

But my blood brother understood nevertheless.

Slowly he withdrew from me, got to his knees and moved so close to me that I could feel his hard and swollen cock at my entrance. Still, he did not enter me, but now embraced himself, rubbing the abundant drops of pleasure on himself and around my entrance. Then he leaned over me only to whisper between soft almost timid kisses. “Is my Sharlih ready? Is he certain he wants this?”

I was unable to reply. An impatient groan and the twitch of my hips against him had to suffice to let him know I yearned for nothing more than to feel him completely, to unite with him, to be one with him in a way I had never dreamed about and which I knew I would never grant any other person.

And Winnetou understood. Carefully, with his right hand, he guided his member fully to my entrance, placing his left hand on my hip in a nearly protective and supportive gesture. Then he increased the pressure until his shaft slid into me, a tiny bit bare. But what I felt at this moment was more, so much more than the detailed preparations let me guess.

Of course I had realized from the start that our first real union would stretch me far more than his fingers could have done, but this unexpected fullness I felt during the first moment of his penetration was such an unexpected abundance that it made me sharply draw my breath in. If his fingers had only caused a gentle, comfortable stretching and barely perceptible burning, now I felt nearly split open and I did not think I would ever be able to take him in completely. Nevertheless, I wanted more, I yearned for him, I finally wanted him inside me.

Winnetou seemed to sense what I was feeling for he stayed motionless, waiting, giving me time to get used to his presence. Only when my muscles slightly relaxed after a while, when they started to accept the intruder, when my body surrendered to him the way my mind and heart wished for, did he push himself further into me.

Again a pang of pain shot through me when he moved. Again I could not quite contain myself from voicing my discomfort. Undoubtedly Winnetou realized that my groans were not just noises of pleasure, but he did not let it unsettle him. And so bit by bit I began to relax, understanding that my lover would give me all the time in the world, that he was determined to neglect his own arousal and lust which must have so far almost driven him to climax.

Again, he pushed deeper into me and his barely suppressed groan filled with lust made me tremble inside with impatient excitement, while at the same time I wished the pressure, the feeling to be so widely stretched and opened would finally end.

As if Winnetou read my thoughts he actually withdrew a bit from me and I was afraid my apparent discomfort might have scared him off. But then he pushed his entire member into me in a single powerful thrust, which elicited a brief cry of pain from me. Immediately he stopped and waited motionless to see how I would react.

I opened my eyes slowly, realizing only now that I had squeezed my eyelids together, and looked into his face. Only love, understanding and patience shone upon me and as the burning sensation slowly subsided and my body began to relish the idea of being filled to the brim by my Winnetou, my lips formed the only words that made sense to me at the moment. “I love you.”

Instead of an answer Winnetou stroked a strand of hair from my face, put his hands on my hips, fondled my middle, caressed my sides and finally covered my shaft that had softened during the unwelcome sensations and began to stroke it to hardness with slow up-and-down motions.

I sank back into the soft grass, enjoying his touches, and it took a while for me to register that he not only moved his hand but that his cock slowly pulled back from me, pushed in, and pulled back again. Each of these movements was slightly more powerful than the previous one, but my pain slowly turned into something different. I still could not say that I could fully savor his presence in me without discomfort, but the thought and the knowledge I was a vessel to Winnetou’s lust and passion aroused me so much that I longed for faster and deeper thrusts, which no longer considered my physical condition. And so it was not long until I found the words that made Winnetou abandon his restraint. “More…deeper…”

As soon as he heard them, his hand grabbed my hips firmly and held them in place while he pulled almost completely out of me only to push back into me with a single powerful thrust. He hesitated shortly, obviously waiting to see if I had stopped him. Since I did not go any further than digging my hands left and right into the grass and answered his penetration with lusty groans he repeated his move.

Again and again he withdrew, pushed in, filled me, made me his. Only as if from afar I heard he also started moaning long ago, and when I opened my eyes I saw that he had closed his in pure rapture. Upon this thought alone - that it was I who had given him this wave of arousal – excitement gripped me so strongly I was nearing the climax even though Winnetou no longer noticed my limb.

My beloved seemed to feel how close I was to completion, for he opened his eyes abruptly and leaned forward a tiny bit before pushing inside me again. He obviously changed the angle at which he touched me inside because suddenly he touched a spot in me that heightened my passion in a way I did not think possible. It made me see stars and forgot my own name.

And without me having anything to oppose, I came in such a way that my senses almost faded and only one thought governed me: Winnetou, Winnetou, Winnetou. With each heartbeat the name of my lover hammered through my body, and only in hindsight did I realize that I must have cried out his name during my climax, because the Apache replied with devotion. “My Sharlih!”

With a soft groan he then sank onto my chest, his cock still not leaving my inside. I already wanted to ask him indignantly not to stop until he, too, had found his release, but his slowing breath and occasional twitching of his limb made me realize that he had also found completion.

I lifted my hands from the grass and embraced the man I loved more than my own life. I buried my fingers in his silky hair, stroked across his back, down his arms and finally framed his face in the same affectionate gesture in which he has previously held mine. I gently forced him to look me in the eye, and as he slipped out of me, our lips united in a heartfelt kiss that expressed what we already knew: we were one – in spirit and in body.


End file.
